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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680535">Our Wild Desire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowtail/pseuds/sparrowtail'>sparrowtail</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Art, Blood, Blood and Injury, Camping, Drinking, Female Reader, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Wild animals, only a little though, wound care</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowtail/pseuds/sparrowtail</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You go camping with your best friends, Rose and Poe, when a terrifying event leads you straight to a stranger's cabin.</p><p>–WITH GIFS!–</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren &amp; Reader, Kylo Ren &amp; You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You, Reader - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bear With Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello!! Welcome to OWD &lt;3</p><p>Reader is female-presenting, so if that bothers you, I'm sorry! I'll try to keep it as neutral as possible until the sexy times, but that'll be a while.</p><p>I hope you all enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Remember when Rose found those ‘berries’ last time and she ended up using all of our toilet paper because they made her so sick? We had to leave early!”</p><p>You grin as Poe recounts your last camping trip from a few years ago. Rose had been <em> so sure </em> about those berries, and he refused to let her live it down. His olive hands wrap around a book, pointing out the exact red berry in question.</p><p>“Here we go, look: ‘buffaloberries, while bursting with antioxidants, can cause diarrhea when eaten in bigger quantities.’ It also says they’re bitter, so how did you even eat enough to make yourself shit your brains out that badly?”</p><p>Rose groans, smacking him on the arm. “Can’t you guys just focus on the fact that we’ve been apart for <em> four years? </em>I’ve been looking forward to seeing my best friends again but all you can focus on is how a mouthful of berries ruined our last trip.”</p><p>Poe rolls his eyes affectionately, slinging his arm over her shoulders. “I’ve missed you too, Rose.”</p><p>You adjust the straps on your backpack, navigating the roots and rocks littering the narrow path through the woods. Life has been rough on you lately. Between your stalker ass ex boyfriend and losing your job because of him, you couldn’t really decide which was worse, but being here with your two best friends makes you feel like you’re home again. </p><p>Poe and Rose keep bickering back and forth until you see the trail marker for the campsite. The sun is directly overhead, not yet overbearing, but the tree canopy blocks most of the rays until you step into the clearing. Your shirt sticks to your chest as the three of you start setting up your tents, amiable bickering your background noise.</p><p>By the time your camp is fully set up, the sun is beginning its descent into the trees, and your belly is complaining that you’ve neglected it since this morning. Your campfire crackles under a can of spaghetti-o’s, and you allow yourself to sit and enjoy the sounds of the forest that envelop you like a warm hug. </p><p>It doesn’t last long. A cracking noise catches your attention, and you look at Rose; she’s opening a large clear bottle, a roguish smirk blooming on her lips. </p><p>“Oh no, absolutely not. Rose, I will not drink that shit again.”</p><p>Her eyebrows slant up, a pout forming. “Oh come on! I’m not gonna sit here and let you wallow in how bad your life sucks. It’s bad enough that we have to sit here and listen to Poe pluck at his guitar like an epileptic chicken. Pleeeeease?”</p><p>Poe’s offended scowl makes you snort a laugh behind your hand, and you can feel your resolve already crumbling. With a sigh, you reach for the cup she extends towards you, trying not to react to her squeal of delight. This was the whole reason you’d wanted to have another camping trip, wasn’t it? To let go. To get out of your head, away from sympathetic eyes, and especially away from that jerk that ruined everything. Your best friends were only doing what they could to make this trip get you out of your funk, and you felt guilty that it was still affecting you even after a few months. </p><p>It made you tired, holding onto everything. You down your cup, deciding to put it in the back of your head, and grinned at the two greatest people in your life. It could only go uphill from here.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Everything sucks. The outside is too loud, too bright, and you groan into your sleeping bag, refusing to be conscious. You’d let go alright, and you were beginning to regret letting Rose talk you into drinking whatever that poison was. Pain shoots through your forehead, white-hot and sharp, and all you want to do is to dunk your head into a bucket of ice.</p><p>Slowly, you rise from your makeshift bed and peek out of your tent with squinted eyes and gritted teeth. The others didn’t appear to be up yet, so you get dressed and don your boots, intent on finding a nice spot near the river to relieve yourself and then maybe take a dip.</p><p>You tiptoe past Rose’s tent, trying not to wake her. She drank almost twice as much as you and Poe had, and with good reason. Seven shots in, she’d confessed that Gwen had broken up with her and took their cat with her. This trip couldn’t have come at a better time, you supposed.</p><p>The rushing dark water comes into view, and you take a second to appreciate the way the rocky bank disappears into the lanky pine trees, fog curling around their trunks. You quickly do your business, excited to wash the grime from last night off. The river is cold and jarring, but it doesn’t matter to you as you wade in, fully dressed. No way were you gonna give Poe something to taunt you with for the next however many years.</p><p>A rustle from the bushes on the bank behind you catches your attention and you wipe the water from your eyes, calling behind you, “I’m not naked, if you’re wondering! I learned my lesson three camping trips ago.”</p><p>When a few seconds go by and no one answers, you turn to call for them to come out and stop being creeps, but you quickly freeze in place as fear spreads through your limbs. A massive brown bear stands on the bank, watching you. Your brain feels like it short-circuits, trying to remember what to do when coming across them. Do you act big and scary? No, you're pretty sure that's for black bears. </p><p>Slowly, you back up to the other side of the riverbank. The bear stands in place, flowing water between you, the only indication of life being the huffing of its breath.</p><p>You continue to inch away, doing your best to be non-threatening. It hears something in the distance and turns its head away, distracted. You take your chance and back away a bit faster, hoping to put enough space between you for it to lose interest. A rock twists your ankle and you yelp, startling the beast into movement. It lunges your way and terror consumes your body, forcing you to turn tail and run as fast as you can. </p><p>You were pretty fast, but you'd read somewhere that bears were even more so. Was this how you'd die? Hungover, alone, and terrified as you got devoured by a bear? You spare a glance over your shoulder; there's a good distance between you and the nightmarish animal, and you have a fleeting thought that you might make it. But where could you go? Bears can climb. They smell things better than dogs. </p><p>You sprint harder, breath burning your lungs, and you round a couple of boulders, trying to survey your options. A dense patch of trees catches your eye and you aim for that, hoping that the bear's large frame won't be able to follow you through. Before you know it, you're sliding downhill at a frightening speed and your leg hits a stump, causing you to cry out. You roll to a stop at the edge of the thicket, but drag yourself to your feet. Sheer terror drives you forward past the slim trunks, pleading to whatever deity will listen that you make it out of this with your life. The sound of your footsteps meet your ears, matching beat with your pounding heart, and you realize that you can't hear the grizzly behind you anymore. You keep going regardless, not daring to let it catch up. The trees finally thin out, and you wildly take in the new scene, assessing your options. </p><p>There, past a small bend, you see what appears to be a log building of some sort. You break off into a sprint again, holding your thigh and willing your body to hold on just a few more seconds. A roar rips through the trees, and you can't tell how close it is. </p><p>A few more feet. You pray it isn't locked. </p><p>Your hands slap against the wood, pulling the handle frantically. To your joy, it opens with a squeal and you dart inside, locking it behind you as if that would help. Finally, you allow yourself to rest, your forehead against the door, heaving a breath into your starving lungs. Your heartbeat starts to settle and you stand back, hands on your hips, shaking as the adrenaline wears off.</p><p>You turn to make sure the rest of the building is closed off, but your face is halted by two metal barrels pointed straight at your nose. </p><p>"Well, shit."</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Bit Squirrely</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mind explaining why you’re in my house?”</p><p>The man at the other end of the gun flexes his long fingers around the stock, waiting for you to either speak or make a move. Your hands raise slowly, and you have a fleeting thought that, although scary, this is still much more preferable than what awaits you outside.</p><p>“S-sorry, uh...I didn’t know where else to go. There was a bear…” You trail off weakly, pointing behind you.</p><p>His dark chocolate eyes flit to the window, and he keeps his barrel aimed at you as he steps closer, peering outside. </p><p>“I don’t see anything.”</p><p>“I swear, dude. Do you really think I made a conscious choice to wear mud today?”</p><p>His face twitches as his gaze travels your body, but after a moment he lowers the gun. An exhale leaves your lungs, and you finally feel your panic start to subside.</p><p>“You’re bleeding.” He states blandly.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Then you remember–a hill, some rolling, and a stump. You tentatively press your fingers to your thigh and wince. It’s pretty bad.</p><p>“I fell down,” you offer.</p><p>The man nods like it’s obvious, then turns to put his gun on the table. He strides to open a cabinet door under the sink, and you can’t help but admire the way his jeans ride down and expose his angular hipbones from under his shirt. The dude is seriously attractive. Black hair almost reaches his shoulders, intense brown eyes, prominent nose, wide shoulders, and he's so tall that it’s honestly intimidating. </p><p>You turn your head away before he can catch you staring, and instead look around the cabin. It’s modest; there are very few decorations, but it still manages to look cozy with lots of blankets and neutral rugs. His bed is in the far left corner, an unkempt nest of sheets and quilts, a couch and TV to the right, and the kitchen, where you both are. You see a door on the left, which you assume is the bathroom.</p><p>“Let’s hope you don’t need stitches. This is all I have.”</p><p>Your attention returns to the man as he guides you to a chair, one arm wrapped around a first aid box. He kneels, donning gloves and lifting the tatters of your pants, and you flush as you realize you’ll probably need to take them off to get the bandage on. He seems to come to this conclusion too, and leans back on his heels to level you with a look that comes across as almost apologetic.</p><p>“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but these need to come off.”<br/>You nod, trying to shove your embarrassment back down. He’s just a concerned, <em> hot </em> guy...coming to your rescue and fixing your booboos. Your day really can’t get any worse than almost getting eaten by a bear, though, so you sigh and reach for your waistband. He respectfully looks away. <em> Aw, how sweet. </em></p><p>Shyly, you drop your ruined garment and take your seat again, maneuvering your leg into position. A fresh dribble of blood drips onto the floor and you resolutely decide to not watch.</p><p>“Wanna tell me what happened?”<br/>Gentle fingers swipe wet gauze over the gash, and you suck air through your teeth. He’s trying to distract you, you realize.</p><p>You launch into the tale, describing how you were in the river and tried to back away slowly, failing, then running for your life through the thicket and seeing his house.</p><p>“Smart girl.”</p><p>You blush, and a hint of a smirk pulls at his lips. Without warning, he dumps peroxide on your wound and you <em> howl, </em> expletives falling from your tongue <em> . </em></p><p>“Give a girl some fucking warning, damn!”</p><p>He artfully applies some butterfly bandages, eyes flicking up to you every now and then to make sure you’re not going to pass out. You grab the seat of your chair and nod at him to continue. </p><p>
  <em> Don’t be a wimp in front of the hot guy. </em>
</p><p>The bandage finally goes around your thigh, and your breath catches in your chest as one of his hands envelop your flesh to hold it in place, the other winding it between your legs. Heat courses through you as he ties it off, and you lower your head to try and will it away.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>He stands, taking his supplies to the counter and washing his hands.</p><p>“I’ll get you something to wear. Sit tight.” You rest your head on the table to wait for him, exhaustion finally catching up to you. You needed a nap.</p><p>“Why don’t you lie down and rest?”</p><p>You meet his gaze and squint, trying to work him out.</p><p>“Why are you being so nice? I broke into your house. You had a gun to my face not even ten minutes ago.”</p><p>He considers you, lips pursed. “I’ve been in your shoes before.”</p><p>“Oh, you’ve been chased by a bear too?” You cross your arms and smirk at him, but there's no real attitude behind it.</p><p>He huffs, shaking his head, and extends his hand to you. It’s warm and large enough that it devours yours easily, and it’s all you can focus on as he helps you over to the bed.</p><p>You don’t stay conscious for long, but your last thought before descending into darkness is that his pillow smells like heaven.</p><p>
  <br/>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The smell that you wake up to is a different kind of heaven. Before you even open your eyes, the grumbling of your belly makes you sit up and seek it out. You rub your bleary eyes and try to remember the last time you ate, thinking back to spaghettio's on the campfire with Rose and Poe.</p><p>Oh, <em>shit.</em></p><p>Your friends were gonna lose their minds. Waking up and you're nowhere to be found? No note, no trace of anything?</p><p>Anxiety washes over you. You try to throw your legs over the edge of the bed to seek out the guy who saved the day, but you forget that the gash is there and you inhale a deep wince, pain shooting to your toes. You breathe through it, clenching and unclenching your hands.</p><p>The man in question then comes out of the bathroom, heading over to you once he notices you're up.</p><p>"I need to get back to my friends. They're probably out looking for me."</p><p>He lowers his eyes and nods, then points to a bundle of black fabric on the nightstand. "For you. It'll be too big, but..." The guy is always so intense, but for a moment he looks...sheepish? Curiously, you pick it up and it unfolds into a pair of drawstring pajama pants. They're so <em>soft,</em> and you rub the fabric gently as you turn your face towards him. He's watching you, an odd glint shining in his eyes. The moment passes before you can suss it out, and he turns and goes into the kitchen to give you privacy while you dress.</p><p>After a bit of difficulty and an embarrassing amount of swearing, you tie the string around your waist and get one of the pant legs rolled, but your injury makes it impossible to do the other. </p><p>"Um..."</p><p>The man turns from stirring something on the stove, a thick eyebrow quirked up, and it doesn't take long for him to understand. As he kneels at the edge of the bed, reaching for your leg, you bite your lip and try not to visibly tremble as his gentle fingers brush the skin on your ankle. He deftly rolls the fabric up, then tenderly helps you to your feet.</p><p>“You should eat something. I have a stew on the–”</p><p>You interrupt, fidgeting, “I really should go. My friends…”</p><p>His eye twitches, lips pulling into a slight frown. “Please.”</p><p>Your mind reels, and you surmise that he doesn’t ask nicely very often. His face looks pained, like it hurt him to insist. Your head cocks to the side, lips pursed.</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>His hand finds yours easily, already comfortable with helping you around, and he leads you to the table. It’s endearing, really, watching him fuss over you. Even being glaringly obvious that he’s uncomfortable around people, he puts so much effort into helping you. If you were anyone else, you’d be offended at his aloof attitude, but you see it for what it really is. He’s <em> shy. </em></p><p>A steaming bowl is set down in front of you, and your hunger drives you to shovel it into your mouth before you remember your manners and slow it down. You glance up at him and narrow your eyes at his gentle, devious smirk.</p><p>“Ever had squirrel stew before?”</p><p>You choke, not expecting humor from him. It’s the first time he’s even tried to joke at you, and you’re not sure how to take it.</p><p>“No, but it’s pretty good. I’m not picky.”</p><p>Your grin lasts until after your bowl is empty, until you remember your friends. You stand on your own while his back is turned, testing your balance. After a single tentative step, your knee wobbles, causing you to slam your hand on the table to catch yourself. The spoon clatters against your dish and he jumps, spinning around with his hands out instinctively to catch you. Your face screws into an apologetic half-grin.</p><p>“Ah, sorry. Figured I’d give it a go.”</p><p>He sighs, and you can visibly see the tension in his shoulders.</p><p>“Let me walk you back. Where are you camped?”</p><p>You tell him you’re not exactly sure which direction, but you do know that it’s lot twelve in the campgrounds. Poe had the map last, and you curse yourself internally for not being better prepared for something like this.</p><p>He nods like he’s familiar with it, and you lean against the table as he dons his boots and putters around, getting his things. He then proffers his bare arm to you, his thin black t-shirt sleeve stretching at his bicep. You swallow thickly, your hand barely wrapping around his forearm. </p><p>
  <em> Jesus, he’s so big. </em>
</p><p>Both of you are quiet for a while, the only sound being your ragged breathing as you struggle down the path and the bugs chirping in the grass. There’s sweat gathering under your hand from the warmth emanating from his skin, and it’s hard to focus. Your thoughts swirl through your mind, nondescript and insubstantial. </p><p>The closer you get to camp, the more you start to feel gloom creeping in. In the short time you’d been in this man’s presence, you’d developed a kind of attachment to him. He was sweet but tried to keep up a detached demeanor, and you can’t help but find him intriguing. <em> His looks definitely don’t hurt either</em>, you think with an amused huff.</p><p>The path finally converges onto a bigger dirt road, and you start recognizing things. A gnarled tree there, that one rock split down the middle. Camp wasn’t much farther. </p><p>You open your mouth to say something, anything, to try and draw out your time with him, but nothing comes out. He notices your mouth floundering, and his low rumbly voice asks if you’re doing alright. You nod, unsure of what to say. How do you tell someone you just met that you don’t want them to leave?</p><p>The clearing comes into view, and you see Rose pacing around the campfire. She catches sight of you, eyes bugging, and she frantically runs over after calling your name, her words tripping over themselves before she even gets within ten feet of you.</p><p>“Oh my gosh, there you are! It’s been <em> hours, </em> where have–are you okay? You’re limping, shit. Poe’s gonna be so relieved, we were so worried–”</p><p>“Rose!” You interrupt, knowing full well she’d just keep on going endlessly. “Rose, I’m okay. Alive, thanks to...uh.”</p><p>You flush, realizing you’d never even asked what his name was. He interjects, cutting a side-eyed glance at you before introducing himself to your best friend.</p><p>“Kylo.”</p><p>You turn your face to him, murmuring his name under your breath. He catches your gaze and licks his lips, smiling softly.</p><p>Rose stands there, looking at the two of you, and clears her throat. “Well I’m just glad you’re alright. Poe noticed you were gone this morning and was absolutely convinced you got kidnapped or something. I had to talk him down and make him consider that you’d just taken a walk or something. He’s out looking for you now, we were gonna call the cops if he didn’t find you.”</p><p>Kylo clears his throat, and you reluctantly remove your hand from his arm.</p><p>“I should get back. Make sure you change those bandages regularly.”</p><p>You nod jerkily, shuffling your feet to prepare to stand on your own. Rose gets a glint in her eye and opens her mouth, and you just know you’re going to get grilled later.</p><p>“Oh crap! Our first aid kit only has bandaids and benadryl.” She has the audacity to look embarrassed, and you squint at her, knowing she’s lying through her teeth.</p><p>“Hm. Well I guess I’ll just have to come back tomorrow and do it myself.”</p><p>Kylo turns to you and smirks, looking you up and down.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“See you.” He utters your name after, lips moving around the syllables almost seductively. Your eyes follow him until he’s quite a few yards away, and Rose swats your arm.</p><p>“I need to know <em> exactly </em> what happened today,” she hisses through her teeth, “including everything to do with that absolute hunk of a dude.”</p><p>You stare at the trees where he disappeared, and warmth spreads through your chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Later, after Poe had returned and given you a similar treatment, you recounted your morning in front of their enraptured faces. You left out a few details, like how you’d had to strip down to your undies, and especially how he’d almost touched your center. You didn’t need to add more fuel to their jokes.</p><p>And after you’d all retreated to your respective tents, if you’d frantically rubbed out an orgasm in your sleeping bag, you decided <em>that</em> wasn’t any of their business either.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You Quack Me Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not me, tiptoeing back here after six solid months of radio silence. 🙃<br/>It's been tough over here, y'all. I'm doing my best, I promise.<br/><br/><b>NOTE:</b> this chapter contains mild wound care and mentions of blood.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing you notice as you force your eyes open is the sun, its gentle rays glowing through the walls of your tent. The second is how much everything <em>hurts.</em></p>
<p>You’d known yesterday that the stress would wear off and you’d be sore, but if you didn’t get some painkillers down in the next half hour, you’d be a cranky bitch all day long. Footsteps bring your attention to your tent flap, and you gingerly sit up and push the sleeping bag down your legs, careful to avoid putting strain on your thigh.</p>
<p>“Knock, knock!” Rose slaps the tent, and you can hear a snicker through the thin fabric. You roll your eyes.</p>
<p>“I’m up, come in.”</p>
<p>She unzips the door without preamble and kneels down to give you a concerned once-over.</p>
<p>“You look like hell, honey.”</p>
<p>A laugh escapes your throat, and you can’t help but level her with a sarcastic expression. Of course you look like hell. You’d outrun a <em> bear. </em> Grime sticks to you like a second skin, your hair is matted down from sweat and sleep, and you can only imagine the smell. You’d been so exhausted yesterday that you’d just collapsed into bed, and left everything else for your future self to handle.</p>
<p>“Here. Figured you’d need these.” A small white bottle peeks out from under her fingers and you accept it gratefully.</p>
<p>“Rose, you’re an actual angel.” </p>
<p>You quickly down a couple dry, unwilling to wait for a drink, the pain in your leg already starting to flare up and throb.</p>
<p>She shrugs, then determination crosses her face and she extends a hand to you.</p>
<p>“Come on, let’s get you into the river.”</p>
<p>Your hand clasps hers, and she cautiously hauls you up and out of the tent. She leads you to the campfire, setting you down and going back into your tent to retrieve your backpack, which she shrugs onto her shoulder, then continues to lead you down the path to the water.</p>
<p>Trepidation seeps into your bones, and you swivel your head around to make sure there’s nothing else out here but you two.</p>
<p>What if it comes back? You’d outrun it once, by sheer luck, but there’s no way you could do it again with your bum leg. Your breathing shortens, and the grasp you have on your friend tightens. </p>
<p>Rose’s brow furrows as it dawns on her that your train of thought is barrelling toward pure panic. “Poe and I have already checked around. There’s nothing here. Relax.”</p>
<p>Her soft brown eyes meet yours, and you nod, trying to get your breathing under control. </p>
<p>
  <em> In through the nose, out through the mouth. </em>
</p>
<p>She sets your stuff down on the rocks and helps you strip down to your undies and a thin tank top. It’s not the first time you’ve been semi-nude in front of her, but you’ve never had to have help bathing. It was kind of humiliating.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Rose. I think I can manage from here.”</p>
<p>She nods, balling up your blood-soaked shirt and Kylo’s pajama pants and aims an <em> I’ll be over here </em> at you, then sits a few feet away on a flat expanse of boulder.</p>
<p>The water is colder than yesterday, but not unbearable. You slowly wade in and unwrap the bandage covering the gauze pad. You hold your breath and rip it back to reveal Kylo’s handiwork. It looks better than it did, which is a relief. </p>
<p>Rose and Poe had wanted to pack it up and head back home, but you’d outright refused. They’d begrudgingly told you that if your injury wasn’t doing much better by morning they were going to take you to a doctor.</p>
<p>You cup your hand under the water and bring it over the wound, rinsing the small amount of blood that leaked and dried out during the night. The clot was holding, and no fresh blood surfaced.</p>
<p>With a soft exhale, you placed the bandage back over your thigh and sank into the water to sit on your butt. Mud and dirt swirl around you, carried away by the current, and your hands idly scrub your body so you can keep watching. It was as if what happened the day before was just slipping away. Like it never happened.</p>
<p>You lean back to dunk your head under, using your nails to scrape your scalp as clean as possible. It feels fantastic, and a quiet moan leaves your lips, unbidden.</p>
<p>Rose clears her throat, but your brows draw together as you realize it’s coming from the wrong direction. You sit back up and look around, hands flying to cover your chest when you see a park ranger turn away from you.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were bathing.”</p>
<p>The timbre of his voice is familiar and you squint, recognizing his hands as they clench at his bag.</p>
<p>“...Kylo?”</p>
<p>His head turns over his shoulder, but he doesn’t look at you. You think back to how he’d given you privacy as you stripped at his table, and you smirk. </p>
<p>You glance back to where Rose is sitting, and she’s wiggling her eyebrows at you so hard you think they might fall off. With an eye roll and a wave of your hand, you send her off so that she doesn’t make this worse.</p>
<p>He’s still standing there, an awkward statue, and you quickly decide to cross the river and stand behind him, gently tugging at his elbow.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you were a park ranger.” </p>
<p>He turns to you, eyes flicking down at your soaked top then shooting back up above your head as soon as he realizes it’s slightly see-through. Your nipples pebble at the breeze cooling the water on your skin, and definitely not at the dirty thoughts you have about pressing your body to his in search of warmth.</p>
<p>“I never said.”</p>
<p>You raise your hand to point at his shirt. “Khaki is totally your color.” <em> That pink blush on your cheeks definitely tops it, though </em>goes unsaid in your mind.</p>
<p>Triumph pools in your chest at the half smile on his lips. He seemed to live in stoicism, and it feels like a personal achievement to wrangle out even the smallest emotion from him. </p>
<p>For now though, he still won’t look at you. You inwardly roll your eyes and turn away, slowly wading through the knee-high water to the other bank to get a towel. His gaze finally meets yours when you return, sufficiently covered by fluffy black fabric.</p>
<p>“Alright, let’s see the damage.”</p>
<p>You lean against the nearest rock and offer your thigh. His gentle fingers peel back the gauze and remove the old butterfly stitches, careful to tug as little as possible. The pain pills must have kicked in already because it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but that could also be attributed to his careful ministrations.</p>
<p>You silently watch him work, admiring his focused expression; his lips press together, his brows lower over his methodical eyes, and a small twitch under his left eye makes your heart catch for a beat.</p>
<p>Then, embarrassingly, Kylo notices you staring. A moment of hesitation holds his hands still before he continues applying new stitches, and you clear your throat.</p>
<p>“Sorry.”</p>
<p>His eyes flick to yours, “Don’t be. I’d be wary of a stranger treating my wounds too.”</p>
<p>You almost laugh, but bite your lip to hold it in. He couldn’t be more wrong. Before you can even consider what you’re about to say, it comes out. </p>
<p>“I don’t let strangers this close to my panties.”</p>
<p>His hands stall on your thigh, burning against your skin. Blood fills his cheeks and he looks unfocused, staring into nothing. You start to panic, backtracking in hopes of fixing your dumb mess.</p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorr–”</p>
<p>Kylo stands abruptly, thankfully shutting you up. You watch, wide-eyed and tight-lipped, as his hand slowly lifts toward you, the pads of his fingers brushing the edge of your towel. His mouth opens to speak. </p>
<p>It takes him a minute, like he’s wrestling with his thoughts, but you patiently wait him out, praying that you didn’t cross a line. </p>
<p>“I don’t normally bandage up such mouthy women.”</p>
<p>If it hadn’t been for the smallest of smirks you’d believe he was being serious. His eyes are locked to yours, the deep honey of his gaze intense. So he <em> does </em>know how to flirt.</p>
<p>Kylo is the first to break away, reaching in his bag. You take a second to get your shallow breathing back in check.</p>
<p>“Here. I don’t think you’ll need them, but if it reopens you’ll have extra.”</p>
<p>He holds out a ziploc baggie with a few supplies in it, and I purposefully graze his fingers when I pull it away. He sucks his lip into his mouth and I immediately decide it was worth it.</p>
<p>“My hero.”</p>
<p>He huffs then says, “I’m gonna be on the lookout for tracks today. There aren’t any bears out this way usually, so I have a feeling we’re gonna have to scare him off.”</p>
<p>“That sounds….dangerous. You have a gun or something, right? Just in case?”</p>
<p>He points behind him and I see the black glint of a rifle propped up on a tree. A small breath of relief leaves my mouth.</p>
<p>“Well, I’ve gotta get back to work. But...I’m glad you’re okay. Try to stay out of trouble, alright?”</p>
<p>I grin, then nod, not trusting myself to say what I really want to, watching Kylo’s broad shoulders disappear back into the woods.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> I’m glad it was you. </em>
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